It Happened One Night
by Optimistic Lyricist
Summary: Sherlock and Joan have a one night stand and now she's pregnant. How will Sherlock take the news? Joanlock


**While I don't really ship Joanlock (nothing against it, I don't ship Watson/Holmes in any medium because I think they're too perfect of a friendship to be anything more), this was requested to me on Tumblr so if it's bad, I'm sorry to all the devoted Joanlock readers reading this. I tried. I really did.**

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It was one night. Just one night, Sherlock thought to himself. He was vulnerable. Joan comforted him. One thing led to another. It just _happened_. He didn't know how else to explain it. Joan was his friend. His best friend. His only friend. He hoped this wouldn't change anything between them. Aside from the occasional prostitute or experiment or even a prostitute for an experiment, this was the first time Sherlock had slept with someone with whom he had a real connection with since Irene and obviously _that_ didn't end well at all. Joan had left the house before he woke up so Sherlock was thankful there needn't be any awkward morning after pillow talk. He was still, however, dreading the eventual post sex conversation that would take place eventually. Him and Joan couldn't avoid each other forever. They worked together afterall. Hell, they lived together. If lucky, they could maybe avoid each other for a day or two. They'd have to be some sort of master illusionists to avoid each other any longer.

It finally culminated for them around 3:00 PM later that day. Joan confronted Sherlock and told him simply that she didn't want things to get "weird" between them. That they should go on as if nothing happened, no matter how impossible Sherlock deemed that would be. Regardless, Sherlock agreed, if only to avoid ruining their friendship. A relationship really would be weird between them. Just the thought of a couple that solved cases together sounded too much like a bad television show premise or a fairy tale pipe dream to him. So as far as either party was concerned, that really was the end of it.

Until about a month later.

One day, Sherlock had noticed strange things about Joan. There were days when Joan would come home and just vomit. Or even in the middle of a case she would vomit. After she kept switching her up her excuses between "I was at a wild party last night." and "Something I ate.", Sherlock eventually got suspicious. He didn't get suspicious right away. It took him awhile to realize there was more to it than that. It took him awhile to realize Joan was lying to him. That's because Sherlock couldn't remember the last time Joan ever lied to him, if ever. After a few excuses, he noticed a pattern. She kept biting her lip a bit. Apparently, that was her tell tale when she lied from the looks of it. Among other things, it didn't take Sherlock long to come to the heart stopping theory. A theory he brought up to her today.

"Watson, are you pregnant?" He asked her blatantly the moment she walked in from grocery shopping. The sudden question caused her to drop the paper bags in her hand and everything from fruits to snacks to veggies and meat hit the floor. She started to pick them up before Sherlock advised otherwise. "Don't bend down. From what I've read, it's unhealthy for women to exert energy when they're baring a child. Could cause complications. If anything, you should sit down." He suggested before rushing over to the food on the ground and slowly putting them back in the bags. Joan just stood there over him, practically petrified. Sherlock briefly looked up to her with a worrisome look on his face. "While I'm down here, maybe you should answer the original question at hand."

"Um..." Joan was speechless as her mind raced. She sprinted over to a nearby couch. "That's crazy. I...what...what even gave you the idea?"

"Well, for starters, you have yet to answer the question. In fact, it seems you're going through a lot of trouble just to avoid the answer for whatever reason." Sherlock stated as he stood up with both bags filled. "Kitchen?" He asked, raising the bags.

"Uh...yeah. Go ahead. Please." She muttered to which Sherlock obliged and headed towards the kitchen.

"Also, the moment I brought it up, you were in a daze as if the answer was more terrifying than the actual question." He mentioned once he set the bags on the kitchen table and headed back to Joan in the living room. "Not to mention the last few weeks you've been throwing up a lot."

"I told you, I was partying." Joan mumbled softly. Sherlock noticed she slightly bit her lip in that moment.

"You were never the partying type all this time I've known you. What would cause such a big change in your lifestyle?" He inquired to which Joan just stayed silent, looking off in the distance. Sherlock continued from there as he sat in a chair across from her. "You also said that this vomit induced episodes were caused by eating something. Then, you were puking because you were sick. You should really stick to your lies. Speaking of lies, you never used to lie to me before. Know you're tell tale is written throughout your face. Care to explain that?" Again, she stayed silent and vulnerable to the question before he moved on. "Lets ignore the fact you've been trying to avoid me like the plague and slurring your speech everytime you do run into me. Lets also ignore the fact that you've been doing an awful lot of grocery shopping. Perhaps to cover up, make up, or even hide for the fact you've been eating pretty much everything in the refrigerator. Lets instead bring up that you've been wearing an awful lot of sweaters lately."

"So? Now I'm hiding something because of my dress sense?" She retaliated in a small fit of rage.

"Exactly." He admitted. "Sweaters can easily hide a...baby bump."

"What? You want me to show you my stomach now?" Joan quickly jumped to defenses.

"If I did, would you be so easy show me? To prove me wrong?" He fired back with another question of his own.

She glared angrily at him. "I'm not going to sit here and let you analyze or deduce me. Like I'm another one of your experiments." She quickly stood to her feet. Her instincts told her to walk off, before Sherlock asked the question.

"Is it mine?" He asked abruptly. Even more abruptly than the question he started off with. "The child that you're harboring. Is it mine?" He asked again for clarification.

Joan paused. She sat back down and gave a heavy sigh. She realized that she couldn't hide the truth any longer. She wondered how she even managed to hide it this long from the world's greatest detective. "You were the last person I was...intimate with. You do the math."

Sherlock leaned back in his seat astonished. He never thought of himself as quite "lover/boyfriend/suitor material" and he was about to be a father. Or was he? "Are you going to keep it?"

"Of course I'm keeping it." She fired back defensively.

"Then why would you keep it a secret for so long?" He asked curiously. "Because the only reason I could think of that you would hide the truth from me for so long is if you were having doubts about keeping it."

Joan scoffed a bit to herself, shaking her head. "Unbelievable. As smart as you are, you're not even looking at this from all the angles. You never thought that maybe...maybe I just don't want to ruin our friendship? Hmm? Or that I doubted you would even want to take care of him? Would you want to take care of this child? Our child?" She asked suddenly. It was a question that actually stumped Holmes himself. He wasn't sure of his own answer. Not completely. His father wasn't the best father in the world and he feared that he would turn into him. Sherlock also knew that he wasn't the most mentally stable person on the planet. He was intelligent, yes, but he was aware he had poor people skills and a certain awkwardness when it came to human connections. Not to mention, recovering addict. In layman terms, he didn't wanted to screw up his child anymore than him himself was already screwed up.

The sheer silence from Sherlock for so long made Joan chuckle a bit to herself. "After all the interrogating you've put me through today, now you're giving me the silent treatment for one simple 'yes or no' question? I need an answer, Sherlock, now." She demanded. Sherlock was still despondent. She sighed as she stood up. "That's not good enough." She added before walking away and heading towards the door. She didn't know where she was going. She just needed some air if anything.

"Watson." Sherlock called for her, but she didn't answer as she grabbed her coat and put it on. "Watson!" He called again to which she, again, did not respond. She headed for the door and opened it. "Joan." He called one last time, to which she paused completely in her steps. That was the first time Sherlock called Joan by her first name. It seemed so...strange...yet at the same time, right, coming from his lips. He stood from his chair and walked over to her. He wrapped his arm around, although hesitantly and awkwardly. He didn't know how to treat someone he truly cared about. Someone he loved. He loved Joan as a friend before, but this was covering new grounds for him. He quickly decided to take his arm from around her and just turn her around to face him. "I'm sorry if I've come off as cruel or cold or distant today. This is all...confusing. Something I've rarely associated anything with. But in the end...it will be an honor to take care of this..." He paused briefly. "...our child." He corrected himself. Another thing he'd rarely done in his life. "At risk of turning this into some cliché soap opera speech, there aren't many things in this world I can say I've loved, Joan. For the longest time, you've been the only thing I've ever loved. Now, not only do I love you on a whole new level or at least realized the feelings I've kept buried for you for so long...I can add our baby to that list. I would be even happier if you decided you would want me to be apart of that child's life. Although, I would completely understand if you didn't because it is your choice and I-"

Sherlock's incessant rambling was interrupted by a passionate kiss from Joan. The kiss caught him off guard, but he kissed back regardless. After a few seconds of nuzzling, he rested his forehead on Joan's forehead and laid his hand on her stomach as a smile slowly crept on both their faces. They just knew from here on out, no matter what rough patches they'd be in for, they were ready as long as they were together.

**END**


End file.
